


These are But Shadows

by bornof_sorrow (wintersfire)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, fic nc17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-06
Updated: 2010-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersfire/pseuds/bornof_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Somewhat schmoopy, somewhat porny. A curious mix, I think. <br/>Characters: the creation of the very talented freece  <br/>Summary: Ten years after, Laurent and Damen sneak away from trade talks <br/>Author's Note: 1. Written for the Princely Pic/Pairing Prompt, apologies for the epic lateness. <br/>2. For the lovely and generous lusiology  who deserves a million fics. She asked for restraint of some form (blink and you'd miss it), dirty talk, slow kissing, possessiveness, and Angry Wall Sex (there's no anger but there is a little bit of wall action). Merry Christmas hun. <br/>3. I'm not happy with this but seeing as I have rewritten it about twenty times and it's not getting any better, it'll have to do. Clearly I'm not freece  but she says she doesn't mind others playing with her toys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lusiology](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lusiology).



Damen strode into the room and sighed to see the steaming bath waiting in front of the fire. He was soaked through having stood in the wide cobbled courtyard of the chateau for half an hour. The delegate from Thrisk had wanted to finish the detailed review of the last four years of their mutual trade he'd begun at breakfast that morning.

Damen had stood and listened patiently considering it another job done before he dealt with the latest papers from home. It wasn't until the very well padded delegate had finished his last over-warm thanks and the necessary mutually flattering and honourable goodbyes had been exchanged that Damen had felt the full impact of his sodden state.

The padded collar and shoulders of his claret jacket were heavy with snow and he could feel the uncomfortable chafe of his sodden shirt against the clammy skin of his chest. Every minute move of his head caused additional drops of moisture to squeeze out of his saturated collar and drip slowly along his shoulder blades. He was still used to regular training drill and time spent outside even if it was sometimes difficult to maintain such disciplines as his responsibilities continued to multiply, but he was also sufficiently used to luxury to recognise that he didn't like the cold and wet. He wanted to be warm and dry again as soon as possible.

He stripped quickly, waving away the help of a servant. For many years now he'd preferred self-sufficiency when protocol allowed.  
Naked, he stood between the tub and the fire relishing the radiant heat against his chilled skin. He poured a draught of the warm spiced wine the Rabatians served at this time of year, and drank. He rolled the liquid across his tongue savouring the familiar mild kick of the alcohol and the slight bitterness of the aftertaste. He could feel his toes and ears again, some warmth now returning to his limbs.

He had been this far north before but he seldom needed to travel entirely through Varenne and this close to the Northern Steppes. Laurent's idea of a joke, he was sure. He did like a dramatic backdrop to offset his general splendour and the beautiful objet-filled chateau and the snow laden forest were certainly that. Damen smiled and slid into the bath which was deliciously hot, steam writhing above the tub and wafting gently towards him with the heat from the fire. Still holding the goblet in one hand, he lay back in the lime and basil scented water and breathed deep enough to slosh the water against the metal sides of the bath.

The tub was not long enough for him to stretch out but he pressed his feet flat against the warm copper and looked down his body, idly cataloguing the scars that he could see: the dent below his knee from an early miscalculation in drill, the small nicks and puckers from falls, knocks and hits to the more substantial: the gash through his collarbone and chest; the deeper gouge below his hip and the slice along his side. He could feel the small ridges of the criss-crossed scars of his back. These were all testimony to his survival instinct and every day he acknowledged them, the inventory now a habit to remind himself who and what he was when he was stripped of trappings and status.

He scrubbed himself automatically with the washcloth and poured the ready jug of fresh water over his head and shoulders, sluicing the soap into the bathwater. Standing up he slid his hands along his skin flicking the droplets of water away, first along the length of his arms, feeling the rough hairs pull slightly with the friction, then down his chest and stomach through the hair there across his hard abdominal muscles and lower.  
He had ignored the familiar tightening in his gut for the last hour or so, allowing the prickle under his skin to build in intensity until it warred with the increasing beat of his blood for his attention. He dropped one hand to his balls and rolled their weight in his fingers enjoying the wave of comfort and pleasure it brought, breath steady and even. With the other he jacked his cock lazily, closing his eyes to savour the warmth and ease of his body and the anticipation of the hours ahead, flashes of images behind his minds eye: Laurent panting and pink-flushed, his arms sinous and taut, restrained behind him.

Laurent did not relinquish control easily but he did so beautifully. Damen groaned a little as he let go of his cock. There was plenty of time yet. He wondered what mood Laurent would be in tonight, the various possibilities making him grin.  
Pulling a robe around himself he poured another spiced wine and saw that the dry white wine Laurent enjoyed was in place. He was unhurried as he dressed, moving towards the window and looking out at the lowering sky and the building snow, soft drifts like swept cloud disguising the features of the courtyard and the climbing hills beyond.

He pulled on a simple shirt which fell from a worked gathered yoke and a pair of drawstring pants, throwing a dark green velvet jacket over the top. Marie-Therese still preferred to finish the fine work on his personal wardrobe herself though of course his public wardrobe was the work of others. Damen was content to indulge her.

It was still too early.

He dealt with one of the large piles of documents left in readiness on the carved oak desk and then stretched out on his stomach on the bed. His thumb stroked against the space in his collar bone. For once Marie-Therese was not there to stop him by pulling his hand into her own.  
Within moments he was asleep.

+++

He woke up to the crack of a log and the whisper of crumbling ash from the fire, the sweet smell of the burning eucalyptus wood permeating the room. He must have been asleep for less than an hour but he smiled because he knew Laurent had arrived and was watching him.

"See anything you like?" he smirked. Even after all this time it still did his heart good to tease at Laurent's iron reserve, to know he was allowed to.

Damen twisted on the bed to see the King of Rabat lazing in one of the oak armchairs before the fire. He had one leg curled under him the other hooked over the arm of the chair, swinging back and forth gently. At first glance Laurent looked as innocent and guileless as a teenage boy with nothing more on his mind than stealing sweetmeats.

Damen pushed away the thought that even when he was a teenage boy he'd never been that.

Laurent made a face at Damen's opening remark, but said nothing, slowly sweeping his glance over Damen's reclining figure. They had seen each other at the formal talks that and the previous day, even exchanged a few pleasantries before the business had begun but the eyes of a few hundred interested observers did not permit the kind of re-acquaintance they preferred.

He swallowed against the stutter in his chest and breath that he always felt in the presence of Laurent. The King was vivid and brilliant even against the jewel colours in the room. The bright gleaming gold of the decorative tryptich behind him, the deep, deep red of the bedhangings and cushions and the shades of striking blue in the wall tapestries were each overshadowed by Laurent's hair, lips and eyes. All the light and energy of the room seemed to converge on the moderate area of the chair where he sat, smiling. Damen smiled back, not least at what Laurent would say if he could hear Damen's poor internal poetry.

"It's good to see you, Laurent."

Laurent was dressed from collar to heel in the midnight blue he reserved for high days and holidays but even this severity did not diminish his glamour. Damen wondered if he would ever see Laurent alone, present, there for him and not feel the simultaneous thrum and ache in his chest, the spike of excitement and the jolt of loss that had his blood coursing and his body sharpening.  
He doubted it.

Damen stretched one long thigh out of the fur cover he'd pulled over himself and curled it back atop his other leg, pushing himself up onto one elbow. He watched Laurent watch his movements alighting on each point – ankle, knee, hip, shoulder before meeting his eyes with a relatively playful arched brow.

"Good evening, Your Majesty, I trust you truly are as hale and hearty as you look. I understand from Ambassador Lucien that you have recently suffered a fever?" Laurent said.

"Why, thank you Your Majesty but it was no more than a chill, easily endured and soon forgotten. I can assure you I am well able to adhere to the promises of our many treaties." Damen returned.

"I am glad to hear it." Laurent lifted his leg off the arm and placed both feet flat on the floor, leaning his arms forward onto his knees. He met Damen's eyes again and a slow, sure, true smile spread over his face until Damen's answering smile turned into a laugh.  
"It's good to see you Barbarian."

"My Lord." Damen inclined his head in acceptance of the greeting.

"Your family is well, I hope?" Laurent stared into Damen's eyes and Damen knew he was measuring every nuance of expression there. He nodded again, not breaking the look between them.

"Very. Yours?" Damen lifted his chin and tried to relax the clench of his fist. He'd accepted their situation a long time ago but he still had not learnt to like it. He didn't want to.

"Likewise."

After a moment of silence Damen got up and moved to reach the wine placed on a linen cloth on the chest at the end of the bed. He poured a glass for Laurent and handed it to him before leaning back against the tall bedpost. He could feel the slight tension in the air and he waited for Laurent to either shake it off or make it worse. In the meantime, he studied Laurent, sure in the knowledge that he could stare as much as he liked, but not sure what he would see.

Laurent's mouth tightened and his lashes swept down whilst he fiddled with the crystal goblet but then the tension eased from his shoulders and he took a sip of wine. Damen watched the moue of his mouth taste at the rim of the glass and his tongue touch his lip to catch the drop of wine there and he felt himself go from aroused to completely hard. When Laurent looked up and met his stare he knew his desire was writ large across his face and he tried to breathe evenly.

Laurent almost preened under his gaze, putting down the wine and idly flipping one of the laces of his sleeve between his fingers. He leant back into the chair, widening his legs slightly, the trailing laces now dipping between his thighs where his hands rested. He took a good long look at Damen's obvious arousal then shook his head in mock reproof and stood up. Damen braced himself.  
"Ah Damen, still so predictable and reliable, still so very earnest. It is a good job for your country that your military exploits and shrewdness are so evident or you, my friend, would be shamefully taken advantage of."

"Speaking of which..."

"Yes..?" Laurent prompted with a familiar curve to his lips, waiting for the punchline.

"I'd like to get on with that part of the evening if I may, Your Majesty." Damen shifted his hips forward, pointedly.  
Laurent made a deep bow and swept his hand to the floor, his eyes not breaking from Damen's.

"As you wish, My Lord."

Then Laurent edged backwards, just out of Damen's reach, until his back touched the wall and he stopped, looking up into Damen's eyes through half-lowered lashes, two white, even teeth pulling the edge of his lower lip back into his mouth.

"Tease." Damen muttered, moving towards him.

"You love it." Laurent returned.

"That I do" he said as he took the final step and leaned in. Damen paused for a moment looking at Laurent's wide black pupils before he swept his lips back and forth across Laurent's, enjoying the hitch in their breathing. Laurent was pliant under his touch, his mouth opening to welcome and explore, his body slotting to Damen's larger frame. It always felt like the first time to Damen. The thrill of being allowed, his mind trying to catalogue the different sensations of Laurent's pleased proximity whilst his body tried to both slow down and savour and rush forward and take at the same time.

Damen leant one hand against the wall steadying himself, his other hand heavy at Laurent's collar, suddenly thick fingers taking their time to unlace a couple of eyelets until an inch or two of Laurent's collarbone was revealed, pearl white and gleaming.  
When he'd moved from the bed all he could think about was stripping Laurent and feeling him under his fingers, mouth and cock but now the familiar scent of the King, the wiry slenderness of his frame and the sussuration of his exhale made him want to stay in this moment when body remembered body and breath shared breath.

His finger smoothed back and forth over the pale tender skin, taking inventory of Laurent's face. Those calculating blue eyes were darkened to navy and Damen felt the adrenaline flare inside him. He'd faced mortal enemies and great peril a few times in his life and he doubted his adventures were yet over, but there was no challenge that called to all of him as Laurent did. Brain, balls and brawn were all required and Damen knew no other thrill like it.

Laurent's skin was like cool thick cream and there was no hint of stubble or beard shadowing his face. He did not need to shave as much as Damen, but he must have done so recently, fastidious as always. Over the years they had done many things together, both in and out of the bedroom, but Damen had seldom seen Laurent looking less than perfectly groomed. If battle worn and muddy he managed to appear poised and cool and, sometimes, even well-fucked he still looked like an artist had posed him, utterly beautiful, to be captured by canvas and oils. Damen recognised all this as part of the illusion of Laurent, one of his outer circles of defences.

Laurent rested his hands at Damen's hip, his index fingers rubbing up and down against the silkiness of the loose drawstring pants. His gaze turned quizzical as Damen continued to study him.

"What?" he pouted, indulgent. Damen recalled his first sight of Laurent and how immediate his physical reaction had been even though he'd had plenty of other things to occupy him at the time. The differences ten years of power and life had wrought were perceptible but not especially pronounced. Laurent was not as slim, his build a touch broader in the shoulder, his chest deeper, but his hips were narrow, his waist as flat as ever and the elegant grace was still evident.

"What, what?" Damen countered as he leant in to nip at Laurent's Adam's apple.

"What were you looking for in my face Barbarian?" he let out a small gasp as Damen licked the line of his throat. "Where you confused, disappointed or...oh..uncertain?"

"Not confused ... know exactly what I am doing..." Damen pressed his hips against Laurent's, one hand holding him still the other continuing the slow unfastening of Laurent's jacket. "...hardly disappointed..." he raised his head and looked Laurent in the eye. Laurent loved it when Damen combined carnality with conversation, so he waited for the shudder and arch into his touch then spoke into the shell of his ear "..never, ever, uncertain."

As Damen pulled back to watch the flush climb Laurent's face, he pushed the jacket down Laurent's arms so that the sleeves turned inside out as it was drawn off. Damen did not pull it off his arms completely, causing Laurent's arms to be held gently behind him. Damen tilted Laurent's head up and their eyes met again.

"You feel good in my arms."

He watched the sweep of colour across Laurent's skin and Damen pressed into Laurent, belly to belly, his hands framing him against the wall. Laurent pressed back, the curve of a smile below his lowered lashes. Sometimes he liked it rough but this was not one of those times. Sometimes Damen liked him to be rough too, but,again, this was not one of those times.

They stood together for a moment, inhaling each other's air, scent, breath. Damen could smell the hint of pomegranate and balsam that was indelibly Laurent and felt a little heady. He leant into him, his inner thigh resting against the outer thigh of Laurent's, feeling the bump of his kneecap a couple of inches below his own. He could hear the distant sound of chatter and music that signalled a well-attended dinner elsewhere in the chateau. Both he and Laurent had excused themselves for tonight or what was the point of being King?

Damen could feel the hard line of their cocks against each other. He slid his hands down the wall onto Laurent's shoulders and then traced along each bicep and the crook of his arms until he reached the restraining jacket. Damen grasped each wrist in the circle of his own hands and kissed along Laurent's collarbone.

"Tell me what you want, My Lord."

Damen pulled both wrists into one hand and used the other to run up over the fine lawn of Laurent's shirt to pluck at his nipple. He waited. Laurent let out a huff and didn't squirm.

"Take it off me Barbarian. I want to touch you." Damen peeled the jacket off the rest of the way and dropped it onto the floor. Being with Laurent was unpredictable and he never knew quite how it would be between them. They'd both learnt to deal with whatever moods found them together or it would be impossible to continue.

Once he'd freed Laurent's arms Damen shifted his balance back and gave Laurent a whisper of space between their bodies.  
Laurent's fingers pulled his loose shirt aside and traced the scar which ran like raised twine along Damen's side from a few inches below his armpit to the indent of his hip. He rested his head against the slab of Damen's shoulder and murmured:

"You were very brave that day..."

"No more than you."

"...I remember," Laurent continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "how at first I couldn't understand what I saw, couldn't take it in, how terrible it was to see your blood again." He bit his lip, then smiled into Damen's eyes.

Damen tried not to react to the "again" part of the statement. They had learned it did them no good to dwell on such things.

"Of course, I should have guessed you would pick the most troublesome, inconvenient moment to get hurt, damned barbarian that you are." Damen could hear the teasing intent Laurent wanted him to hear but there was something solemn there too.

Damen leant down and bit gently, rubbing his slightly scratchy jaw along the soft skin of Laurent's neck.

"I aim to please, My Lord"

"I know you do," he said.

Suddenly, Damen felt an ache in his chest spreading outward, making his arms feel heavy and cumbersome. He found it difficult to swallow and he tried to loosen his tongue in his mouth. Everything crowded in: how he missed Laurent; felt his absence at all times, buried underneath all he did; that lonely space where he had to explain, compromise, detour and adapt to others, the space that was occupied when he was with Laurent, conquered by shared understanding between them. He knew what it was called but he'd never named it, much as he wanted to. Laurent would not be able to tolerate that, so it went unspoken between them.

Damen forced a smile, his thumb now shaping circles against Laurent's neck. But this time his soothing gestures were not mirrored by Laurent.  
"What is this Laurent? It's not like you to be thinking of the past. Is there something I need to know?"

Laurent jerked his head up met Damen's eyes, saying softly,  
"I am confident, Barbarian, that your spies keep you well informed of my comings and goings. How is Jord by the way?"  
"Well and prospering. Don't change the subject Laurent."

He pulled back a little, halting Damen's caresses with his own hand but continuing to meet his eyes. He didn't say anything for a moment. His fingers still traced the bottom of the scar, smoothing the same few inches over and over.

"It would've been Auguste's birthday yesterday. I sometimes forget that you too are human and frail as he was."  
Damen's heart stopped and then hammered like an anvil shared by seven smithies.

Words chased through Damen's mind, phrase after useless phrase, none of which could cover the enormity and complexity of the delicate balance between them. His stomach dropped at the sudden potential for disaster in the evening and the realisation of how much he needed, how much he had counted on. Damen felt like sure footing had given way to crumbling clifftop. At last he said:  
"I'm not frail. You mustn't worry. You know I'm always careful.Well, admittedly not as careful as you but few of us have your labrynthine mind."  
Laurent tipped his head back, allowing Damen access again. Damen moved in to taste and kiss. Laurent gave a small laugh as he did so, disaster averted one more time.

"That 's just you trying to find a nice way to call me excessively paranoid. It's a good job you are a King and a successful soldier. You would not fare well as a courtier, ...an...admirable... quality...I...think."

Damen, between kisses, began to work on the intricate lacings and fastenings that continued to secure Laurent inside his clothes, glad the sombre mood had lifted, not wanting to consider his own insight.

"Oh, I don't know. I have some very important friends. I understand that some of them are prepared to go to..."  
He slid his hand between them palming the hard length of Laurent's cock "... some lengths to help me." He smiled against Laurent's neck.  
"Did you just pun? That, Barbarian, is a completely unacceptable liberty, such a poor excuse for wit that you should be punished..." He tangled one hand in Damen's hair and tugged sharply.

"Ow! Maybe you are right, My Lord. Or perhaps I should make the crimes against your royal person worthwhile to justify such punishment. What would you suggest?"

Damen's voice sounded deep and resonant even to his own ears so he flicked to Laurent's eyes and suddenly the playfulness was over. He was aware of every subtle change in Laurent's expression and body even though there was still some space between them.  
Laurent tilted his hips up to Damen's. His breath quickened and his tongue swept a layer of moisture across pink lips. Laurent's hand tightened in his hair again and he felt the tingle in his scalp at the discomfort. However, he'd suffered much more and Laurent knew it so the touch was nothing except the opening salvo in a game they both knew very well.

"I have a few ideas..." Laurent said.

"I wager you do..." Damen touched his tongue along the curve of Laurent's ear and listened to Laurent's shallow inhale."..but what pleases you tonight?" Damen punctuated each word with a nip of skin under Laurent's jaw.

"You know what Barbarian."

"Perhaps I do but I'd like you to tell me, My Lord."

Damen wanted to rub his palm over Laurent's hot cheek.

Laurent looked at Damen through narrowed eyes, the fine lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes and his cheeks flushed a pale crimson. He moved his hand from Damen's hair and slid his hands down his shoulders, along his arms to his hands, one, still palm, firm against his cock, the other holding Laurent's hip. Laurent tangled his fingers in Damen's squeezing their hands together. Damen could feel the breath catch in his throat. He wanted and waited.

"I want you. Want you in my mouth. Please..."

Laurent pressed a quick kiss against Damen's mouth, sliding his tongue against the bottom lip. Damen panted a few quick breaths, not sure whether to swallow his heart back into his chest, suck in some air or deepen the kiss. That Laurent trusted him enough to ask him for that, for what he wanted, after everything they'd seen and endured made arousal and warmth flood through him. Every. Single. Time.

"Please...let me."

Damen looked at Laurent's glittering eyes, his burning cheeks and his inviting mouth and groaned. He'd never seen anything more beautiful. He knew he was the only one who ever really saw this side of Laurent. He was the only one Laurent ever allowed himself to be like this with. To enjoy Laurent, to see him like this, to touch and please him and to have the pleasure returned was exquisite.  
Damen could feel his own cock throb against the flimsy pants, the fabric sliding across the sensitive head, spreading dampness. His tongue felt heavy against the roof of his mouth and he swallowed before answering:

"Yes."

Laurent pushed Damen back and around, swapped their positions and dropped to his knees, one hand still tangled in Damen's, their fingers twined around each other, Damen's thumb sweeping over Laurent's knuckles, a reassurance, yes Laurent, yes.  
With his other hand Laurent pulled the drawstring of Damen's pants loose. The trousers fell to Damen's feet where he stepped out of them and kicked them to one side.

Damen looked down at Laurent who sat back on his heels his breathing growing more laboured with each moment. He brushed his blonde hair back from his face and the years of rule and experience disappeared reminding Damen with a pang of the youth he'd first belonged to.  
Damen groaned but didn't speak. That wasn't part of their game, not yet. Damen's blood was racing towards his heart and his cock, "Don't stop" bitten back as he watched his length disappear between Laurent's plush lips, hot and wet against him. He glimpsed a silver-smear of pre-come across Laurent's top lip and Damen's knees trembled.

He touched Laurent's cheek to feel himself pressing and pushing in. Laurent squeezed his hands hard into Damen's buttocks and Damen recognised the prompt for what it was.

"Get up on your knees Laurent. I want to see." Laurent rose up, not taking his mouth off Damen, and tilted his head to allow Damen to better see his lips wrapped around his thick cock. He never met Damen's eyes when he did this although he responded with enthusiasm when Damen made his instructions explicit. Not that he always followed them, but he liked to hear them.

Damen could feel the sharp spikes of pleasure across his spine and belly as Laurent drew on him with his mouth, his attentions thorough around the head whilst he waited for Damen to speak.

"Stroke me Laurent, get hold of me. You know I want to feel it. Harder. Yes, like that."

Damen wanted to tip his head back to luxuriate in the smooth hard jerks of Laurent's hand and the perfect suction of his mouth, but he couldn't look away.

Early in his captivity he'd had to watch Laurent so very closely for sheer survival that he'd learnt the limit and span of every expression. Now that ability to read Laurent's own enjoyment added to the heat in his stomach, the tremble in his thighs and the surging pleasure in his balls. He could tell that he wouldn't take long, not this time, not with the king so pleasing on his knees, urging him on with the silence he wanted Damen to fill with praise and instruction.

"Have you been thinking about this Laurent? Today when you watched me? I have. I couldn't think about anything else.. ah.. how hot your mouth is, how...how... much you love it. Bet you could hardly wait to swallow me down, could you? Looking so fucking controlled, thinking about my cock in your mouth...fuck."

Laurent moved his hands from Damen's cock to his hipbones and swallowed as much as he could take of Damen. Damen could feel the fervid tightness of Laurent's throat and the slickness of saliva escaping from Laurent's mouth and he could see the movement of his blonde head as he worked Damen intently: as thorough and as expert in this as so many other things.  
Damen cradled Laurent's straining jaw against his palm and he felt lightheaded and dizzy from the pleasure, gasping out encouragement whilst his legs felt stuck to the floor and only the wall held him up.  
Damen panted and crooned and forced himself not to thrust hard until Laurent dug his thumbs into his hipbone and then released them, grabbing his hand and the back of one thigh instead. Damen responded to the cue as words tumbled out of him:

"Yes, yes, so good. Want to fuck your mouth, bruise it Laurent. Let me...yes...fuck."

Damen's eyes closed as he swore and twisted and came, one hand entwined with Laurent's the other tangled in his hair.  
Laurent pulled his mouth off Damen and gagged, spitting come out of his mouth onto the floor beside them. Damen laughed weakly, too busy standing upright to take offence. It was nothing more than he expected anyway. Try as he might – and he'd really tried - Laurent would not swallow. Kings, he said, did not swallow anyone's come.

Damen had proved him wrong on a number of occasions but he was immoveable.

+++


	2. part two

When Damen could feel his legs and had reacquired the ability to breath and speak, he was laying on the bed amongst the cushions and furs.

It was deep dark by now. Pools of soft amber rushlight softened the stone walls, casting circles of light on the floor like stepping stones between tapestries and furniture. Laurent came back to the bed, now mostly unfastened and untied, after attending to the fire and shuttering the window. Damen was very careful never to remark on Laurent's moments of domestic endeavour as he knew if he did he'd never witness them again. Laurent was as happy to be served and indulged as a pedigree cat and seldom troubled himself otherwise but he allowed Damen certain quirks and being largely without servants whilst together was one of them. The room was pleasantly warm and they did not need the bed hangings but Laurent loosened a couple anyway, shutting half the chamber from view and creating a more intimate space for them.

"Your turn." Damen promised as he knelt up and pulled the nearly transluscent shirt over Laurent's head. He cast it aside, licking across the pale brown nipple until he could feel Laurent's spine arch towards him and away from his own steadying palm against the small of his back. Laurent curled his hands into the hair at the back of Damen's neck and scratched at his nape, sighing as Damen pulled the skin against his teeth and pressed his tongue firmly against the sensitive flesh. Then Damen tugged Laurent's tight pants down his legs and off, trailing his hands up the back of his thighs before turning and pressing him back onto the bed. He added his own shirt to the growing pile on the floor as he bent his head and licked across the taut corrugation of Laurent's abdominal muscles and ribs.

"What are you doing?" Laurent asked. He stroked both hands across Damen's broad tanned shoulders and across his back.  
"Touching you." Damen murmured. He knew his satiation would not reign long with Laurent so close. He was rested and relaxed and he wanted to see Laurent come undone.

"No. Tell me. Tell me what you are doing."

Damen looked up at Laurent, whose eyes were violet and fathomless in the soft light. Laurent propped himself up, supporting his weight on his elbow and stroked across Damen's jaw.

"I want to hear what you are thinking whilst you do it."

Damen enjoyed most of Laurent's kinks, as fascinated by their existence and provenance as he hoped Laurent was with his own, but there was something about Laurent's appetite for TALK that made both Damen and Laurent rigid and leaking. On Damen's part he spoke and Laurent, mostly, did not, but he absorbed every frantic word and sometimes he would repeat a particularly vivid image or phrase to himself and Damen knew it was being added to his extensive but seldom used vocabulary of smut and gutter talk. Laurent enjoyed using such language to rattle others and his dramatic side savoured their shock value from his mouth, their use so at odds with his restraint.

Laurent knew his own wants very well. According to his reputation and behaviour when they first met, Damen had been amazed that they existed at all. But as his knowledge and understanding of Laurent had increased he had been delighted rather than surprised to find that Laurent was both generous and demanding in bed: he enjoyed Damen's pleasure and secured his own, both of which were unfailing enticements to Damen.

Damen's lips hovered over Laurent's, his hands were flat on the bed beside his head bracing Damen's weight as he pretended to consider Laurent's demand. They both knew it was a foregone conclusion.

"Kissing you. I'm going to kiss you, slowly, thoroughly, until you beg me for more Laurent.

Then we are going to fuck. Hard. Would you like that Laurent?"

"Yes." Quietly.

"Good. But you are not to touch yourself Laurent. Do you hear me?" Laurent nodded his blonde head. " No," and Damen cupped his jaw firmly and looked into his eyes "...do you hear me Laurent? Not 'til I say."  
Laurent smirked at Damen and pushed his beautiful cock up into the groove of Damen's hip. "Best get on with it then, before I get bored or," another push of his hips, "...distracted."

His smile was a full grin now. Damen looked at him, from his tousled hair still in disarray from Damen's grabbing hands, down the smooth firm chest with the fine silky hairs trailing from his navel, to his hard, sticky cock and on to his parted thighs, one between Damen's own, the other curled loosely allowing his foot to rest against Damen's calf. He kissed Laurent deeply and tasted the bitterness of his come in Laurent's mouth, dipping his tongue into the spaces where the taste remained until there was no more to find and both he and Laurent were breathing heavily.

Damen pulled back and looked down at Laurent's cock which was jutting in a straight firm line up towards his waist. Last time they were together, Laurent had made him touch himself, had given instructions and directions with determined control. Damen had relaxed completely, able to sit back and enjoy.

Whilst Damen looked his fill and felt heat prickle down his neck and across his shoulders, Laurent rubbed a hand across his own chest, tweaking at his nipple. Damen slapped it away, circled Laurent's wrist with his fingers and pressed it into the bed.

"Uh-uh, don't. Look at me Laurent." Laurent met Damen's unblinking regard and huffed.

"I saw them looking at you today, wanting you, from servant to Lord. You left them breathless, wanting more. Such a tease. It made me hard knowing all of them want you, that no-one gets to have you except me. Such a strain always to be so disciplined and controlled, but it makes it so much sweeter to let go doesn't it?"

Laurent was utterly still now and Damen could feel a hectic pulse in his wrist. He could feel his own blood pooling into his pelvis and his dick. He leant the few inches in to bring his mouth against the cedilla of his ear. "Let go for me Laurent. Show me what you want."

Laurent closed his eyes and swallowed. Then he reached up and pressed his thumb into the notch of Damen's collarbone following it with a stroke of his hand down Damen's arm until he reached the hand that wasn't holding his wrist and tapped at it, signalling to Damen to shift his weight onto his other arm.

Laurent watched Damen re-adjust then pulled Damen's hand upto his mouth where he sucked on Damen's fingers to wet them. One at a time. A lick of tongue up and over each digit, a wet firm suck and pull with his mouth. The tension and suction were reminiscent of his earlier service to Damen.The curl of his tongue over the ridge of the knuckle and the soft bite at the flesh of the pad was repeated with each until every finger was slick, wet and warm.

"That how it's going to be? You sure? You can have whatever you want My Lord, but I want you to ask for it and wait for me to give it to you."

In answer Laurent licked across Damen's palm, eyes wide and open, nothing hidden, wanting to be seen, the man, not the King. Equals. The way only they could be together. Damen growled low in his throat, his dick feeling full and tight between his thighs.

There was a sudden commotion and shouting from the courtyard and Laurent tilted his head towards the sound, listening intently but Damen just stroked his wet fingers over Laurent's balls, absorbed in the texture of hair and skin. Whatever was going on outside of his world of bed, fire and fur didn't matter. He couldn't care less if invaders were climbing the city walls or fire was falling from the sky. He only wanted to feel, hear and touch. He pressed against Laurent's shoulder and he lay back on the bed, returning his full attention to Damen. Damen swept his own hard belly against Laurent's in a slow circle of his hips.

He dropped his hand down further and circled Laurent's hole with his wet finger, not pressing in but feeling the give and traction of the ring of muscle.

"Have you been thinking about this Laurent? Can you remember exactly how it felt last time? I always think I can but I'm surprised every time I have my hands on you...just...how...good...it feels."

Laurent reached up and pulled him forward until he could touch his collarbone, where be bit gently, kissing him where he liked it best, before sliding back onto the bed.

Damen pressed in slightly and Laurent's hips moved back into his touch as he bit his lip and shivered. Damen let go and reached over to the phial of sweet-smelling oil on the table.

"I need to be inside you. The thought of it makes me lose my mind Laurent, so tight and perfect, it takes me all my time to breathe." Damen unstoppered the bottle and poured it over Laurent's hand, swirling it over his fingers with his own, in and out, up and down.

"You're flushing all over Laurent, your mouth so red and swollen after sucking me."

Laurent's dick twitched up against Damen's thigh and he stroked across his hip to feel the quiver he could see in Laurent's limbs, smooth skin under his slick fingers. Damen drew Laurent's hands down, stroking the oil on their hands against Laurent's balls and along the pale skin until it reached the tiny dark pucker of his hole.

Damen could feel flames licking under his skin and see heat and need building in Laurent.

"You were made for this Laurent. So beautiful.Your skin is so soft. Open yourself for me."

Laurent's eyes grew darker and more dilated, became wide glossy pools, the blue a bright edge to the black. Damen cradled the familiar weight of Laurent's cock in his palm, fingers gently circling the balls underneath, before leaving off to lick along the sharp crease of his hip.

"Don't make me wait Laurent. I know you need something to fill you, something to press against, soothe the ache." Laurent stared at Damen then tilted his hips upwards and pushed two fingers inside himself. There was hectic colour on his cheeks and the hand that pulled one thigh towards his chest was shaking, a dewy sheen of sweat across his brow and neck. Damen didn't know whether to look at his face, twisted in silent pleasure or his fingers which were pressed right up inside and made Damen feel frantic, unsteady. He squeezed the base of his cock hard to keep control. Laurent must be wild, he still hadn't come yet but Damen knew he could wait, he'd proved it many times.

"Yes. Yes, good Laurent, so good. Make yourself wet and ready. I want to be inside you soon, stretch yourself open for me. Don't try to be quiet, I want to hear you."

Laurent responded with a third finger and a press of his shoulders back into the bed, his feet now braced against the mattress, his spine contorted to accommodate his pleasure and his fingers. His gasps and shudders stuttered out, separated by moments of silence but no words, no pleas. He still hadn't touched his own cock, adhering to Damen's instruction and Damen could feel his own need ratchet up a notch at the thought.

"I want to fill you, stretch you Laurent, I want to fuck you and cover you until you come all over both of us."

Laurent scissored his fingers, pulling at the muscle and for a moment Damen could see between his fingers, inside Laurent and fuck he had to move. He surged forward and grabbed Laurent by the hips, swiping his fingers away and steadied himself against Laurent. The head of his cock was dark red and leaking and he smeared oil along his shaft before pressing forward against Laurent. Laurent had his shoulders back off the bed, watching Damen, panting. His pale hair and heated skin stood in stark contrast to the sable throw beneath him and he shone against it, an impossibly lovely image come to life.

Laurent braced himself and Damen could wait no longer. He pushed into Laurent in one deep shove and sank all the way, feeling Laurent stretch around him. He groaned and bent his head to Laurent, who had fallen back against the bed and wrapped one leg around Damen's hip and the other around his thigh, his arms pushing against Damen's shoulders. After a moment Laurent jerked Damen forward with the leg around his thigh and Damen started to move, slamming in, getting deep and close: steady, powerful, hard.

Damen hissed out incoherent words as he rocked forward and pulled Laurent in by his hips, tilting them up until Laurent was part resting against Damen's thighs, part being pushed up the bed. Laurent jerked and moaned as the new angle hit his prostate and Damen's control began to slip, the urgent, driving clamour of his body making him wild and his rhythm uneven. He could feel scalding heat enveloping him and muscle and flesh part around him. He could smell the forest and cool, clean air on Laurent's skin tangled up with fresh sweat and his own scent, the background scent of sex and men. He could hear the traffic of guests and servants about the chateau against the bitten back moans and gasps of Laurent.

"Waited. Too long. S'better...better than anything else...Laurent." Laurent was gripping Damen's bicep with one hand and half-grabbing the fur, half-pushing up into Damen's thrusts with the other. Damen's belly twisted in want at the sight and he pushed his stomach down and forward until it pressed against Laurent's leaking cock.

Laurent moaned like he couldn't help it, couldn't hold it back and Damen pushed his tongue into his mouth, persistent and forceful, fucking it as thoroughly as he was fucking Laurent.

Damen suddenly felt clumsy, the feelings and sensations overwhelming in a way only Laurent could produce. His mind and heart were jolted back into full life and he was aware of so many things at once that his limbs hardly knew how to obey his orders. He forgot each time how powerful it was to be fully in tune with Lauren. All other concerns faded into dull relief against the brightness of Laurent and the words spilled out of his mouth, even as he managed to grip Laurent's cock, squeezing the head tight into his fist.

"This...not..not to.. anyone else do you?"

Laurent twisted up into the pressure of Damen's grip, reaching for what he wanted. His thighs were tense and shaking with want. He sucked in a breath and rasped out:

"No. You know I don't. Can't."

Damen pulled Laurent's thighs further up his own and came up to his knees to pound into Laurent, hand still working his cock.

"Yes, only me Laurent. Swear to me. Only me."

"Let me.. go.. don't..don't ever.. Damen. Swear it..."

"Come for me Laurent. Let go, let me see you. Such a good boy..."

Laurent tossed and shook against the furs as come fell onto their skin in blistering stripes. Damen shuddered and filled Laurent as he felt the clench and release of Laurent's climax, scorching pleasure ripping across his spine and through every part of his body, lit up and sparking between nerve endings and synapses.

+++

"Damen."

One word.

The only one Damen really wanted to hear. Not Your Majesty or My Lord or even Barbarian.  
Damen felt it, wanted it again, reaching past cold to spread warmth inside him.

+++

For long moments neither of them moved, Laurent's hooded gaze fixed on Damen, breathing heavily. Damen felt stretched out and calm, his legs aching and throbbing with the thrum of his body. He also felt smug but was careful not to let it show on his face until Laurent started to smile. "I can see you, Barbarian, you are not as discreet as you think you are. Well, enjoy your moment, it may be a long time to the next."

Damen's smile faded naturally after that although he could still feel the warmth coiling in him and humming in his blood, tracing the circuits of his body, taking the necessary life with it to every cell and fibre that would wilt and fade without it.

He'd tried saying it to Laurent once but he had laughed at him whilst holding his gaze: "You are no poet Barbarian. Don't." He had traced his elegant fingers along the jut of Damen's collearbone and stroked the space in the middle, the glint of mischief gone and something steady and certain staring back. Then he'd moved his hand and replaced his stroking finger with the pad of his thumb against the pulse in the curved space and held his hand against the hair at his nape. Almost no touch at all but the touch he always associated with Laurent.

+++

He bit at Damens fingers when he felt he had been held enough but was languid and still and allowed Damen to stroke and caress him as much as he liked, saying nothing but smiling to himself one eyebrow faintly raised. It no longer made Damen angry. He saw through him well enough by now, and Laurent raised his arm and touched the bruise at Damen's collar and smiled.

He didn't know how to resist that smile, didn't even think he wanted to.

+++  
After Laurent had fucked Damen and evened the score, they lay, stretched in opposite directions, their heads next to each other, talking about everything – politics, alliances, trade, militia, their latest shared plans for a naval fleet to guard their shores until the talk turned desultory.

"Next year. I'll see you for the hunt. I have some new dogs to test out." Laurent remarked. Occasionally Damen lifted his hand and touched the side of Laurent's still smooth cheek whilst they chatted and, occasionally, Laurent let him. The fire died down, the air cooled and the night gave way to charcoal, then violet grey, then a muffled dirty pale of stirring and preparation. Laurent got up from the bed and began to reassemble himself in his clothes, Damen assisted with the various clasps and lacings.

Laurent nodded to a jewelled tube, previously unnoticed, on the chest next to Damen's papers.

"For your collection."

Damen kissed the side of his neck before tying the last lacing at the top of his collar.

"Come and sit for a moment or two." Damen offered, stripping his furs back and preparing to take the comfort of the soft scented bedlinens before he was forced to begin the tiresome progress home.

But Laurent smiled as Damen knew he would and began a witty remark about reclining in luxury on a ermine litter in his royal procession. Although Damen knew him capable of much patient endurance and hardship he liked, still, to project a sybaritic image although no one now dared to underestimate him. He faltered, however, and the remark died replaced by a rueful smile as he straightened and looked at Damen, his gaze taking him in from head to toe. His eyes met Damen's and he paused, one hip cocked in a pose of indoldent relaxation reminding Damen of the provocative postures of their earlier acquaintance.

"Take care, Barbarian. Don't be fooled."

Damen did not feel annoyed at this advice which would be unthinkable from anyone else.

"I will. I always do."

Until next time lay unspoken between them and Damen shut out everything - the jingle of tackle and whinny from the stables, the shouts of their escort running through morning preparations, the snow-muffled footfall of servant seeing to the victuals for such a swollen household, the hundred different distractions of the moment as they stared at each other and messages, instructions and reassurances passed silently between them.

"Until, Barbarian."

"Until, Laurent." He couldn't bite back "Fare thee well"

Laurent smiled over his shoulder as he left, the heavy oak door thudding into the frame behind him.  
After a moment Damen turned and slid into the bed, waiting for sleep, his thumb stroking his collarbone.

The End.


End file.
